Writing the Alphabet
by Kitsune Alchemist
Summary: A series of drabbles set in the Death Note world. Multiple pairings. Rating subject to change.
1. A: Alphabet Blocks

Disclaimer: Don't even bother. I don't even have enough money for a cosplay outfit, much less anything to give you if you sue me for something I don't' own.

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A- Alphabet Blocks

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Near sat on the plain floor of the playroom, white cloth bunching around him from too-loose pajama's that draped effortlessly over his pale skin. Over the years, he had gathered a rather impressive collection of toys, but now, there were very few around him. Three pyramids made with a meager selection of wooden cubes, and three more blocks on the floor before him.

The pyramids had a rather random arrangement to the odd observer, but Near had stacked them in awkward patterns, the letters painted onto their surface insisting two different names. The first two piles, one to his right and the other to his left, claimed the unfamiliar name of "NATE RIVERS." The name he had spelled made even Near frown at it for a moment, feeling that it did not and could not fit itself inside the safety of the playroom, claimed as his domain over the years, and rarely forfeited to others.

The final pile laid itself before him, offering up only four letters: "NEAR". The name in itself was oddly comforting. Much more so than the layout of the final three cubes that lay before him. The leading block, the one in front, claimed the letter "L" and the other two, the ones struggling to follow the leader professing the letters "M" and "N".

Something was off though, and it had taken even Near, the prodigy, a moment to place it.

Flicking a hand out, Near snatched a block from the floor, his motions upsetting the pile to his left and sending "RIVERS" crashing to the floor, skidding away from each other to break up the name. Taking the W block he had chosen, he lifted L and placed the newly found block beneath it, helping it to reach its goal. Watari, after all, was the one who had always helped L.

Along this line of logic, however…

His other hand grabbed for a block, finding another M block and sending "NATE" tumbling to the floor as he placed the new M beneath the one he had previously used. To anyone else it wouldn't have mattered, but to him, well… He refused to place his newly acquired "Matt" above "Mello" because that wasn't the way it was.

Picking up the N on the floor, he frowned and placed it neatly atop his last remaining pile, apart from the others. That fit, he supposed, He had nobody to rely on like Mello and L had. Only himself. Near only had his name to support him. For some reason, that made him feel oddly sick to his stomach.

He curled on the floor until Linda came in and asked him why he was crying.

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End of A

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Okay, reviews are appreciated, but what I really need are suggestions for the Letter B. I may or may not use one of the suggestions given, but if I don't use yours, keep trying. If I do choose yours, send my a short prompt beginning with that letter, and any other requests that you have (pairing, a line you want used, a basic plot, etc.)

Please and thank you,

Kitsune Alchemist


	2. B: Bias

Disclaimer: It would make an amazing Christmas present, but until then…

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B – Bias

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"The chance that you're Kira just increased by a third of a percent," L noted, following one of Light's small offhanded comments, and Light moaned desperately. L tipped his head back from the computer screen to look at Light, surprised at the sound erupting from Light's throat. "Another sixth of one, Light-kun."

"Weren't you just saying I was down a fifth of one yesterday?" Light asked, throwing his head back in the same way and rubbing at his eyes in a way that made the handcuffs clink awkwardly, rubbing against his chaffed wrists and causing him to wince. "Can't I even break even for at least a day or two?"

"It is not my fault if you continue making mistakes, Kira-kun," L muttered, spinning his chair towards Light with a small smirk playing over his lips. "Is Kira-kun getting annoyed with me?"

"Depends," Light snarled, frustration covering his facial features and contorting them into a picture of dark irritation. "How high of a percent will that cost me?"

"Not much. Only two or three at most. Depends how annoyed you're getting. Judging by the tone of your voice, I'd say more likely three." The frown that crossed Light's features make L's smirk grow.

"You want me to be Kira, don't you?"

"Hmm? Of course not, Light-kun. I simply believe that that is who you are. I would be very relieved to find that I was wrong."

"No, you wouldn't, you bastard. You don't want to be wrong. Even if it means falsely ruining my life, you'd hate to find that out!"

"Of course I would, Light. After all, I'm biased, ne?"

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End of B

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Okay, that one was not about Near, Matt, or Mello, which is against my usual style, but I'll survive.

And suggestions for C? I kind of have half an idea, but I still appreciate suggestions. I'll have C out by the 14th at the latest.


	3. C: Clowns

Disclaimer: Oh how I wish. Mr. Genie in a lamp, won't you? … You know what, you suck.

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C – Clowns

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"Lookit, Mel! You can't tell me that's not awesome!" Matt's eyes were wide beneath the frames of his goggles and his fascination was clearly visible. Mello gave only a jerky nod in response, one eyes staring at the scene before them, another half of one focused on the boy two seats to his left, separated from the blond by Rodger. This left only a minuscule portion of his already meager attention to focus on his best friend. "Come on, Mel-lo," Matt whined in soft tones, separating the blonde's name into two different words. "We're supposed to have fun today. Forget Near for once."

"Shut up, Matt!" Mello snapped and Matt stopped his persistent whining, having gotten what he wanted. Mello was now leaving the albino prodigy alone, and that was really all that was required to ensure a smaller likely-hood of a fight. Roger glanced over with a glare and Mello promptly snapped his lips shut, grumbling about something and fishing a bar of chocolate out of who-knew-where in his pants. "See, Matt. Now I'm in trouble." He huffed at the gamer, but Matt relaxed and fixated most of his attention back on the show.

Roger had taken them to the circus, oddly enough, and Matt had had a strong feeling that there would be some kind of non-passable test over the exact proportional weight needed for the girls on the tightrope to balance, but so far, there was none forthcoming. There were two men now, painted in sickening gobs of make-up and supposed to entertain, but their antics were nothing but foolish acts to ones as smart as the Wammy's House orphans. One of the men, dressed in tacky mix-and-match clothes with his face painted white and his eyes splotched in red and blue, rode close to the stands, gigging maniacally and shaking a tangled mane of neon-green hair at the shrieking children.

Mello looked bored and Matt simply stared at the creature from behind his goggles. Near, however, looked odd and pulled sharply away as the thing reached out to snag at the loose cotton of his shirt. "He-hey, little boy. Why you all dressed up for bedtime? You should be dressed for playing!" Near whimpered softly and Mello, looking murderous, didn't notice. Matt however craned his head to look at the small boy.

Rodger had noticed too. Glancing around, he tried to locate someone to take Near outside, and the closest were Linda, who looked absolutely giddy at the prospect but was likely to make Near feel worse, and Mello, who… just no. "Matt, take Near outside if you would."

Matt stood silently, Mello's incredulous glare making him feel slightly like a traitor, and yanked on Near's shirt. "Come on then, Near. Hurry up."

An odd feeling grazed his flesh and he looked down to see Near sliding his fingers into Matt's own curled palm, his face more childish than Matt had even seen it. He pulled on the joined palms and Near complied, walking after him briskly. As they got outside of the tent, back into the warm spring air and the sounds of bad carnival music, he head Near whisper a timid, "Thank you. Won't Mello be angry at Matt?"

"Nah, he'll get over it. What's wrong anyways, Near? This isn't like you."

"If Matt will promise not to laugh…" he trailed off looking at Matt and the gamer shrugged and nodded, and affirmation that he wouldn't tease Near, despite what his best friend would have done. "I'm afraid of clowns." The chuckle that Matt produced low in his throat made Near's eyes widen. "Matt promised that he would not laugh."

"I'm not laughing at you, I swear," Matt mumbled, but Near still looked accusatory.

"I am not laughing, so Matt cannot be laughing with me," he said firmly, childish logic firmly in place.

Matt smiled a little and tipped his head back slightly as if to think about it for a moment. "Yeah, but, I'm not laughing at you either. I think I'm laughing at myself."

"Why would Matt be laughing at himself?" Near asked curiously, beginning to raise a hand to twist a misplaced strand of colorless hair. Matt noticed the boy's shift in weight a moment before he felt the boy stumble and fall against him. Spinning, Matt caught him with his free arm, both hands now touching Near's flesh. Maybe he wouldn't have failed a test over balancing on a tightrope after all.

Holding Near against his chest to steady him, he noted that small difference in their heights and carefully leaned down to destroy those small inches of air, dipping to the side and kissing Near's cheek rather than the soft lips that pouted at him. He spoke, letting his lips brush over the same spot on Nears cheek over and over again, barely even there. "If you want to know the truth, Near, I kind of hate clowns myself."

"Oh." No more sound escaped Near, but slowly, he turned his head to intercept the lips that still rested on his cheek with his own. "Okay."

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End of C

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Okay, so this one was a bit of MattXNear. Not my favorite pairing, but any pairing between Mello, Matt, and Near are really cute.

This was also longer than normal, but I had to incorporate an entire conversation, so...

I'll be posting this a few days earlier than previously mentioned. Why? Because I have no life.

Still, ideas are always appreciated, though I forgot to say, I won't do het pairings. It just scares me.

On more thing. I have three people on alerts, and one favorite, but I only have one review? The heck guys? I'm not doing the next one until I get at least one more review, okay?


	4. D: Daddy

Disclaimer: I don't even own my own soul. Go take it up with Rachel…

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D – Daddy

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"Mom! Mama! Madre! 'Kaa-san! Màna! Moeder! Mother!" Cries like these were familiar around the orphanage, for no matter how smart one was, it was still natural reaction to cry for ones mother when hurt. Very few stayed silent, never called or screamed for a parent that was gone from them. Even Mello could be heard on occasion, twisting in his sheets and begging, "Matter! Matter!" in raspy German until Matt grew brave enough to wake him or he woke on his own, blue eyes wide and air coming in gasps from his lips.

Still, Near never cried out for his, and it was barely even hard to believe that the boy would not want for that affection. Matt never cried out either, though his was because he stayed up far later into the night than he should have with the sound on low, playing video games until he crashed, too weary to dream of anything that would make him call for her. Or so it was supposed by the staff.

Wandering the halls at two in the morning, Roger could hear at least four or five different voice screaming, calling for their own mothers in foreign and familiar tongues. One voice broke the monotony of the rest.

Matt, having actually fallen to the land of dreams for once, was not calling for his mother but instead whimpering softly, "Daddy, Father, why do you have to go to work?" Roger opened to door to the room, not knowing what he was going to find and found Mello sitting on the end of Matt's bed as the boy squirmed, red-brown hair splayed over the pillow and his goggles removed and clasped gently in Mello's fist.

Mello looked up sharply and moved, only to have Matt cry out just a little louder than before. "Daddy, don't go today, please. I don't like the weather outside and you and Father aren't careful drivers anyways, Daddy. You and Father can skip work today and stay home with me!"

Roger blinked at the connotations of Matt's words and looked at the scene with something like pity, only to be snarled at by Mello. The blond moved away from Matt, but the boy clutched at the hand of his best friend desperately and Mello sighed and sat back down, this time nearer to Matt's head, contenting himself with glaring mental daggers at Roger in a way that made the man rather glad that Mello had no form of psycho-kenesis.

"I can handle it. This is why he doesn't sleep well. He doesn't want people to know or anything. He's not ashamed but… well… it's bad enough that he's stupid enough to be my friend. He doesn't need any other reason to get picked on," Mello snapped, eyes narrowing even as his words twisted halfway into sorrowful apology for Matt. So, Mello did know that his friendship with the redhead was looked upon with open scorn. Mello was definitely not well liked, but he was far too fierce to torment, therefore causing the brunt of the angry words to fall on his best friend. This having been said, Mello forced that fierce anger onto his face and snarled, "Go away."

Matt jolted awake with a gasp and, utterly ignoring Roger, buried himself into Mello's leather-clad body, arms clenching around the blonde's waist. "Mels, Mels…" Matt's words were awkward after those two, foreign, though Roger knew he came from an English-speaking country. German, he placed it, Mello must have been teaching him, but it was rapid and quick and relayed years of experience into quick rapid speech.

"It's okay, Matt. Calm down, moron," Mello's voice was slower, softer, even affectionate if that word even fit with Mello.

Matt still clung desperately, speech bubbling out of his lips, switching frantically between German and English without a moment notice and making it even more difficult to try and figure out what he was saying.

"Shut up, Matt," Mello said frantically, glancing suspiciously at Roger as if the man could understand every word that the boy was saying.

It didn't fit him. Matt was so happy in the daytime, playing with Mello and occasionally the other kids, stopping Mello from horribly maiming Near, and always smiling with a video game in hand. Now, that same boy was trembling and burying his face in Mello's stomach, hands clenching behind the other boy's back. Slowly, his speech halted, listening to Mello, and he tilted his head up, looking at his friend pleadingly and giving a childish whine when Mello shook his head, refusing Matt whatever he wanted.

Roger turned away and began to leave, turning back once he was out of the door to shut it and was surprised to find that the second he had left, Mello had finally complied, pressing a bruising kiss to Matt's lips and making Roger frown. He wasn't disgusted. L himself was gay, or at least bi, and Roger didn't have a problem with it at all.

In boys so young though, it was awkward, and yet, it seemed to be exactly what Matt needed. The boy curled up, releasing Mello and snuggling back onto the bed, grabbing at Mello's hand like it was a stuffed animal. Roger left without another sound, not understanding why he heard Mello's voice sigh, "You know, Matt, if I ever see your dads, I'm not sure whether I'm going to kill them again or thank 'em."

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End of D

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I kind of stated with the theme Daddy in honor of fathers day (Sunday people! Buy your dad a nice gift!), and I'm not exactly sure what happened there, but my mind was apparently craving some MelloXMatt, so…

If you like this story, and read this story, please review. My inbox is lonely.

That being said, I would like to informally dedicate this entire set of drabbles to my DeathNote group for A-Kon next year (Ethan, Paul, Al, Ashley, Nikki, Hina, Sarah, and whoever else is going with us!)

Also, I want to formally dedicate this chapter to WithABunny, who has been my only reviewer so far and who is amazing!


	5. E: Ecliptic

Disclaimer: Duh. Just… I worry about you people. I'm writing _fanfiction_. Do you really believe I have any claim to this?

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E – Ecliptic

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There was, of course, a time when people believed that the earth was the center of the universe and that all things moved around the only inhabitable world, which was at its center. This theory was eventually proved false, however; the world was not the center: it too floated in an elongated circle about a giant mass of flames that man had named the Sun and worshiped foolishly as a God. This was basic knowledge, learned back in year 2 or 3 or somewhere along those lines; Light couldn't really remember that far back.

All that one had to know was that man was not the center of the universe: the Sun was. Light had understood this, accepted it, filed it away, and then promptly ignored it for the rest of his life, letting other knowledge eclipse it until it was just a fact that was there, and who cared why or how he knew it.

Of course, he did know that since the moon _did_ move around the earth, it was possible for it to eclipse the sun when their patterns overlapped. These pieces of info never really associated themselves together until he was lying on the staircase of a building looking up at the sky and letting rain patter against his face. The sun was hidden, but even in this light, he could see the moons pattern in the sky.

His mind raced in circles as his breathing became more and more erratic and his chest clenched under the power of Ryuk's Death Note, wondering why, if he was the God of this world, if people worshipped him for permitting life as the sun once had, why exactly Near, pale, albino Near, white as the moon, had managed to eclipse him where no one else had.

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End of E

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This chapter is dedicated to my Edo-kun, though I presume she would have probably preferred a yaoi from me. Oh well, so a dedication to her and to MooMoogle for being my second reviewer.

Next chapter out soon, and guys, I really need suggestions for F so Edo-kun doesn't give me another hard word…


	6. F: Fall

Disclaimer: Do-dee-do…. Huh? Wha? No, I am NOT plotting to steal Matt, Mello and Near! Why would you think that?

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F- Fall

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Everyone fell sometimes; it was really only just a matter of how long. That was how you learned after all. Run forward, stumble, trip, fall, get up and try again. It was a cycle, and all people had to follow it, even Near. He had fallen when his Mama had died, and then Watari and L had helped him stand and run his way forward into the temporary resting spot of Wammy's house.

"You're a genius," they had said to him, all of them had said it. "We're all smart here, and someday, L will pick one of us as his successor. L's smarter than all of us, though."

Funny, though, rather ironic even, that Watari and L had been the first to fall and not stand up. God, Kira, Light, had killed him, killed them. He had been smarter to the very end, and Near knew, even without details, that they must have both fallen, truly fallen and hit the floor.

He didn't leave the orphanage, but instead watched Mello storm out to take L's place in his own way, Matt looking out the window like a broken puppy, his eyes wide and the rims of his goggles filling slowly with water from where they hid his red eyes.

It was fine then, for a while. Near tripped and stumbled his way into place, not as "L" but as N, and nothing more. And then Mello's plan blew up, quite literally, in his face. And he fell, but he was too strong or too stubborn, one of the two, to give up, and so got up and trudged forward until he got his strength back.

And then everything went to hell in one shot. Matt first, pierced by handfuls of bullets, filled with lead and beaten down with it until he could not stand for the pain, and he closed his eyes and gave up, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch of bones. Near had been expecting this, felt bad, felt pity coarse through his bones for the boy who had comforted him when he was afraid of clowns. Felt numb, felt nothing, let Mello fall too, not ever hitting the ground because the flames were too much and incinerated everything at once.

And Near didn't feel, couldn't feel, wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, though violence was in Mello's nature, not his. Near just clenched his fists over three toy figures: Matt, Takada, and Mello; he shoved them into the box behind them and choked on a sigh, hands moving a few more toys into line.

Near thought it a very fitting end though. The third Kira, wrist punctured, dying slowly on the ground, unable to stand to save his "God"; Kira fallen, lying crumpled on a staircase with his heart burst. Near almost smiled at it, a twitch of his lips at the sight, and then he fingered the toys that he had gathered. "These, Kira, these are the people that fell to make you live."

Three figures and a mask fell to the ground, representing the four: Watari first, then L, his mask cracked from a misplaced bullet but not too harmed, and finally, Matt and Mello, aptly side-by-side.

Near smiled thinly, weakly, and purposely dropped, falling to the ground beside the dead boy, wondering if he really had to get up.

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End of F

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Sorry about how choppy it is, but that seemed the best way to do this chapter…

So, there's F, and special thanks, once again, to WithABunny, who gave me this idea. All your word giving paid off!

So, G words anyone? God seems to cliche even for me. Please and thank you!


	7. G: Geeklish

Disclaimer: Um… I don't deserve to own anything. I ran into a pole. That takes away all ownership privileges…

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G – Geeklish

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"Mello! So, guess what!" Matt bounced into the room, looking like he had overdosed on videogames and was now unable to sleep. Which, it was likely that he had. His goggles were shoved up into the mess of red hair and his eyes had black shadows under them, rather reminiscent of L but looking odd and unfitting on Matt's cheerful face. The boy flopped down on Mello's bed, laying his head against Mello's shins and shifting his head up for a split-second to avoid being kicked in the face before going back to resting on the blonde's legs.

"I don't know, Matt," Mello said, his voice strained as he snapped a piece of chocolate off, tongue flicking over it. Most times, Matt would stall to follow the pink tongue with his eyes, not really caring if he was being a pervert and imagining odd things, because, hey, this was Mello and he knew that the blonde was doing it on purpose. Now though, Matt was clearly too excited to stall and looked up at Mello, meeting his eyes with a grin.

"So I beat my new game yesterday, and at first, I thought it was such a waste of time because you go through this four-floor tower and then you win, so I was like, 'what, I wasted my money on that?' And then it started me over at level one and all these items I had thrown into this orb thing were on the surface and you start over and you get to keep playing with new endings every time, and your HP and VP go back to normal, and its really hard to keep your VP up especially while trying to use all these items to keep your HP up and trying not to get killed and you can only fight with your fists until you find a good sword and while your trying to do that, they're killing you, so you throw bones at them, and sometimes it help, and sometimes it totally screws you over…" Matt's voice was rapid and excited and Mello relaxed as the boy ranted, contentedly sucking on his piece of chocolate.

This wasn't so bad, Mello decided, watching the lips of the other boy move in rapid speech patterns and little half-laughs. All was right with the world for a little while, and for a second, Mello could almost imagine himself as normal, and this was his best friend who had come over to play videogames with him and then totally own him at them, because hey, this was Matt, and even in his imagination, it wasn't possible to beat Matt at a videogame. That was all fine until Matt shifted to lay on his stomach instead and jostled Mello back to reality.

"… Archangel is the good guy, but he's also the bad guy, and you appear in ghost form every time to freak you out, but its actually your twin brother who asks whose gonna die and jumps off a tower, which I don't get, because you go down, not up the Nuero tower, an there aren't any others, and that would totally demolish his HP, but he'd have VT left, so he might still live, but-"

"Shut up, Matt!" Mello snarled, his ears having enough of the babble. He wanted Matt to talk, wanted him to be happy, it wasn't a bad wish, but it was nearly insufferable when Matt went on and on about the same thing for more than a few minutes.

"Huh?" Matt queried, blinking back to reality and finding that he was leaning back against the bed with his head resting on Mello's chest, hands playing with the rosary around Mello's neck. He dropped the cross like it might burn him and scooted away from the blonde, 'I'm sorry' written all in his eyes and face.

"Matt," Mello hissed and pulled on Matt's goggles, snapping them into place over the boys wide apologetic eyes and causing Matt to flinch away, hugging his knees. "God, speak English, will ya? I don't speak in geek terms."

"Oh… right… sorry, Mels," Mello rolled his eyes and lay back from where he had sat up on the bed. After a moment of hesitation, Matt did the same, resting his head on Mello's stomach to look up at the chocolate-obsessed boy's piercing blue eyes. "So… um…"

"Just tell me about something else, okay," Mello offered and Matt smiled and began to speak about a game of pictionary he had played with Linda. Life wasn't bad like this, Mello decided once more, actually listening this time and letting Matt's voice wash over him, not bad at all.

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End of G

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Okay, so that made no sense at all, but about three different things inspired it, so it was necessity.

First, the word "geeklish" is so not a real word, but I was watching supernatural bloopers and Dean gets mad at Sam for speaking "geeklish" so that was the word I used.

Second, I just watched the episode where Matt appears for a grand total of like… a minute before getting shot and dying and got a text just after watching it from three different DN obsessed friends, each one of them saying something about Matt, and two of them saying, "OMG, his voice is SEXY in English." One of those was a guy. Yes, I have odd friends.

Third, I just played Baroque which is the most rantable game EVER, and it isn't in Final Fantasy style, which is like, all I play, so I'm amazed that I tolerated Baroque long enough to get obsessed.

So there you go, and H words may just be inspired by random things again, but hey, suggestions are always amazing! They actually help!


	8. H: Homework

Disclaimer: Hi! I died. Not literally, just figuratively… But figurative death apparently causing me to lose claim on all my non-existent ownership privileges… kind of sucks…

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H – Homework

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Light stretched, his back relaxing with a soft pop from the separating bones and a soft moan from his lips. Rolling his head around on his neck once, he allowed it to loll to the side to glance at L who was, oddly enough, staring at him. Light grimaced slightly and straightened himself to return to his dignified stance, but it was just the slightest bit too late. "More percentages about me being Kira?" Light guessed as L muttered something to himself, and surprisingly, L shook his head. Light narrowed his eyes slightly, annoyed and not believing the detective in the slightest and snapped, "What then?"

"Simply curious…" L said and gave a sickeningly sweet smile to Light causing the boy to grumble under his breath and return to typing on his laptop.

After a few moments, when he continued to feel those black wormhole eyes staring at him, his head snapped up again and his finger clicked the button to save the file he was typing on before shutting it out and spinning to face the still gazing man. "Can I help you with something?" he hissed in agitation, foot lashing out instinctively in his anger and connecting with L's shin in an accidental but oddly gratifying way. "What do you _want?"_

L glowered slightly and rubbed furiously at the spot where Light's foot had connected, pressing the pedal of the chair with his hand to make it raise slightly higher towards the ceiling and away from Light's feet. "I was simply interested, Light-kun," and the way L spoke Light's name made it sound suspiciously close to Kira, though Matsuda and Light's father were both in the room and L never openly called Light 'Kira-kun' before any of the task force, "I find it almost amusing that you can manage to study Kira without any problem, but your homework seems to take you forever."

Light glared. "I hate you," he said, no venom, but plenty of annoyance in his voice, like a child bickering with a sibling. He turned away and reopened the file to finish his report, due the next day and put off in his attempt to catch Kira while convincing L that he, himself, was not Kira. Really, life was too complicated to try and keep up with schoolwork as well, and he still had at least eight pages left to write if he wanted to get a grade up to his standards.

Fingers moving over the keyboard for another set of ticking minutes, there was a little while of completely focused silence before his hands cramped up rather painfully with only a page and a half left to go. Groaning, he let his head slump back, looking completely the tired teenager. "Ryuuzaki, what time is it?"

"Hmm? Oh, its two in the morning, Light-kun. Your father retired almost an hour ago. I'd assumed you heard him as you responded to his goodbye."

"He left?" Light inquired wearily and sighed. "I'll finish this in the morning. The class isn't until eleven anyways. Goodnight, Ryuuzaki."

"Oh, yes, Light-kun?" L asked as the boy started for the stairs, heading for one of the rooms in the building rather than try and walk the few miles back to his home.

"What?" Light asked, snapping his head back towards L to see what the other man wanted.

"I'm feeling rather unbiased today. You're down two and a quarter percent."

"Goodnight, Ryuuzaki," Light supplied more firmly, rolling his eyes as L fixed him more firmly with the dark-eyed stare.

"Goodnight, Light-kun," and this one didn't sound as much like 'Kira-kun' as usual.

Light never actually finished the paper, instead awakening to find the completed report lying neatly on the table next to the bed with a note attached.

_'Really, Light-chan,'_ it read, and Light nearly spluttered at the honorific used when this note was clearly in L's sloppy handwriting. _'You act like a child when doing homework.'_

Light sighed and wondered if L was actually that condescending. But, L, watching from the cameras, could still see the brief smile twitch onto the face to accompany the eyes that rolled straight at him.

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End of H

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So, who thought I died? Yeah. My bad.

Anyways, here's another one about Light and L for all you fans of them.

Again, I have a bad habit of ignoring word suggestions, but they really do help for inspiration. This one was actually spawned from the original idea 'Hate' from WithABunny. Don't' ask me how 'Hate' became 'Homework'. Possibly because I _do_ hate homework?

So word suggestions are love, people… So are reviews… They make me write faster? Really, I promise!


	9. I: Impressions

Discalimer: I became a hillbilly last week according to Jordan. Yeah, I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry I was gone for so long. We went on vacation to Tennesee and I nearly drowned, hehe…

Warning: Rated a rather high T for um... suggestive moments...

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I – Impressions

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Mail had always been taught to judge things based on first impressions. Matt was taught completely differently later, but upon his arrival at Whammy's house, he was still Mail Jeevas through and through. He got there sometime in January, he wasn't really sure when, but the man who had driven him was an old guy in a leather coat, and if it hadn't been for the damned social security worker, all first impressions would have told him to run like hell, especially when, once in the car, the other man in the front seat, the one behind the tinted window who's face he still hadn't seen asked, "Want a candy bar?"

"Not really," Mail had responded, "I don't like sugar." Of course, what he had really meant was, 'If you're a rapist, I'd like to at least have my wits about me.'

Of course, he had made it to Whammy's House safely, just in time to see a blond kid that couldn't have been more than a month or two older than him punch a kid to the ground. His first impression of Mello, and it was somewhere between horror – how could he punch a kid, albino by the look of him, scrawny and defenseless, into the way of the two older boys racing across the lawn? – and awe at the look of Mello – all in tight black with an angry yell at his lips and a chocolate bar in his left hand because the right had just taken a swing at the old man who had driven him here.

His first impression was of him kicking and struggling and shouting and throwing the chocolate at the kid on the ground and then looking almost horrified that he had wasted the treat.

His first impression was of him calming down almost immediately as the other man in front got out of the car.

His first impression was of him rushing to swing his arms around the man's neck, laughing like nothing had happened.

His first impression totaled up to, "Holy Shit?"

-

About half a week later, Mail was instructed to pick a name that he'd use for the rest of his life while his new home deleted all record of him being born. Real nice, he'd thought, staring at the man who'd told him this. This was the man that the blonde boy had hugged, wasn't it? "Who the hell are you?"

"L," the other responded, "Who are you?"

"M- oh, wait… um…" Mail sat and thought for a moment, confused and unresponsive, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I don't… Matt. My name's Matt."

"Well then, Matt-kun, would you like to meet the other orphans?"

He couldn't stop himself. "Like that blonde?"

"Which blonde?"

Mail, no, Matt, stared at him, eyebrows raised, blinking once slowly. "I don't know his name," he responded. "I haven't met him. The one in black."

"Ah, Mello-chan. His show on Tuesday should have warned you to stay away. However, if you insist on meeting him, I will not stop you."

"Yeah, okay."

He had no impression of L other than, "Holy Shit…"

-

"Truth or Dare?"

"Why are we doing this?"

"Because it's Matt's first birthday with us! Linda thinks Matt should relax and have fun! Doesn't Mello want to help?" the girl giggled at him. "Truth or Dare, Mello!"

"Why the hell am I out here?"

"Truth or Dare, Mello! Come on, even Near's done a Truth."

"Damn it. Dare."

"Kiss Matt!"

"Huh?" Matt looked up, having not even been paying attention to his own party until somebody had been dared to kiss him. Raising his head he looked around. Not the greatest idea, because the movement tipped Linda off to his location. He had been hiding and playing Mario behind the giant wall of blocks that the albino kid, Near he was called (first impression: quiet and not very talkative, but nice enough once you sat there for five hours and persisted in telling him bad jokes until he cracked a smile), had built.

Half a moment later, Linda had pushed the other, and the boy from the first day was on him, and Linda was giggling, "Do the dare, Mello!"

"Damn it," the blonde hissed and snarled at Matt, "Shut up. I have to do it or that damned Near will never let me hear the end of this."

Matt was rather unsure what Near had to do with this, nor could he imagine quiet Near making fun of anyone, but the Mello's lips were on his, fierce and warm and tasting of chocolate and, oddly enough, peppermint, and Matt gave a small moan. Mello backed off hurriedly, staring at Matt like he was some kind of freak and then shaking his head and yelling, "There, I did it, okay? Now go to hell and leave me alone!" before storming up the stairs, leaving a very bewildered Matt to Linda's next attack.

First impression of Mello's kissing: "Holy shit…"

-

Matt was fidgeting irritated, wanting to be able to get out of his seat so that he could reach his bag in the compartment above him and get batteries for his game that was running dangerously low on power. Grimacing, he fidgeted some more, hearing only silence and the occasional snore. Last he had checked, everyone besides the stewardess' had been fast asleep; understandable, considering it was almost four in the morning. He didn't want to sleep: he just wanted to play his game. He hadn't fallen asleep before dawn since Mello had left Whammy's house.

Twice, he had gotten sick from not getting enough sleep. Near had stayed up with him, building cities out of dice. "Matt isn't L. He knows that, right?"

"I have nightmares when I stay up. Mello used to help me when I had to crash every few nights."

"If Matt will go to sleep, I'll help."

Matt had fallen asleep before dawn, and Near had helped in his own way, cuddling up next to Matt when he began to twist in panic and making him fall still, no longer speaking, but still dreaming, though it was without movement or sound.

Matt yawned, glaring at the seatbelt sign until he felt somebody walk beside him. Frowning, he tried to twist, but his seatbelt was being cruel and wouldn't let him look more than 45 degrees to either side. Slumping, he decided it was simply another stewardess, and went back to staring at the hypnotically blinking light of the sign.

"Sir, please sit down."

"Dad? Don't-"

"Oh, for the love of Christ, you can't still have those things. You're such a baby, Matt." Then he was awake again, and somebody was kissing him, chocolate and peppermint with a taste of fire now, though how exactly fire tasted, Matt was at a loss to describe. Mello, not one to care about rules, bent and unzipped Matt's jeans, tossing the game in Matt's hand to the side. A moment later, that same fire was kissing him in other places and Matt arched violently against the restraint of his seat belt.

First impression of this kind of "comforting": _"Holy Shit!_"

-

Mello was lying beside him on the bed, scar's bared to Matt's line of vision and making the red-head want to shut his eyes to the sight, but instead, he was kissing along the outline without any reason but the urge to feel the difference between the burn and the smooth skin beside it. Mello glared at him out of one eye and he backed off, going back to basking in the afterglow.

First impression of Mello as a lover:

"Hey, Mels."

"What?"

Matt grinned a bit darkly. "Holy Shit."

* * *

End of I

* * *

Okay, that was so not my usual style, but my friend, who didn't get to give me a suggestion yet, was all pissy because he didn't get to give me his one for H. I asked him to tell me what it was anyways, and, of course, he provided, "Holy Shit."

So this is what became of Impressions which started as something completely different.

If this offended any of you, I am so sorry. Please don't be mad. Just tell me I'll try not to do it again.

Of course, if you like it, please tell me as well.

And suggestions will never make me unhappy…

Except this one. Kitty, I am not happy...


	10. J: Journal

Disclaimer: Well, I was sort of hoping that for my birthday…. No? Seriously? Okay, fine, I don't want it any- PLEASE!! I'm begging!

* * *

J – Journal

* * *

Ryuk was bored. Usually, he'd have Light to entertain him, but the boy was _sick_ of all things. Ryuk would have to remind him that if he wanted to be a God, he'd have to stop doing such things, but for right now, Light was curled up, fast asleep, between the blankets of his futon, claiming that Kira could wait another few hours before killing people because he was _tired_.

So, Ryuk, being Ryuk, could have helped and killed people for him, but really, where was the fun in that? Well, it could have been better than sitting here munching on a few apples and staring at the sweat-soaked boy below him, listening to him breath harder than normal, but he still didn't want to do it. So, that left very few things to do. After all, what did Light do in his spare time?

Kill people; Ryuk had already gone through this mental process more than once and finally ignored it.

Study; No, because Ryuk didn't go to school at all and so he had nothing to study other than Light or the room he was trapped in.

Read that stupid porn that didn't even interest him; Ryuk had honestly considered it for about three seconds before remembering exactly how revolting he found humans, much less human females. Misa, for example, made him want to stop writing names and just wait until he died, if only to get away from her.

Work with L; that was so close to laughable that he actually let out a small chuckle and then froze as Light tossed over in the bed, expecting the boy to crack and eye open to glare at him and then ban him from eating apples until he was better.

Somewhere inside, he was wailing something about his apples, but on the outside, he just turned and floated lazily to Light's desk, flopping down on top of it and hearing the tiniest jingle of noise. Looking down, he found keys neatly placed inside a lock and honestly thought about it for a second. Maybe he should write in the Death Note after all, simply to appease his boredom.

Instead, he yanked open the drawer and took a long look at the journal sitting there. Really, one had to wonder what was in it. Did Light actually write in it while Ryuk was doing other things: getting apples or stretching his wings by flying about outside?

Grabbing it up, he began to flip through pages and pages of neat writing that actually did describe Lights days well enough to appease any bystander. He "studied" after dinner and then "read" after that, describing the plot of some long-winded novel that Ryuk was sure Light had actually read in about half a day.

There was stuff about school, vague mentions of some girl named Takada or something like that. Ryuk vaguely remembered her as the girl that Light had taken on the bus when he had killed the FBI agent stalking him. Really, nothing interesting. How had this been a good idea?

His face twisted into a look that a serial killer would have died – or been killed by Kira – for. Tossing the journal haphazardly back in the drawer, he shut the door with one kick and floated over to Light's bed, flopping down on the rumpled sheets.

Light groaned and sat up, staring angrily at him. "Ryuk, go away. I don't feel well."

"An apple a day keeps the-"

"You've been eating all my apples," Light said blearily, curling around part of his pillow miserably.

"Ah! Sorry about that. They're just so tasty! But you aren't very entertaining when you're sick anyways," Ryuk said, rubbing one clawed hand over the back of his head sheepishly.

"Nhh… entertain yourself."

"Nothing to do. You're so boring, Light. How can you stand this?"

"You know what, Ryuk?" Light hissed vehemently, and Ryuk cocked his head to the side questioningly, snatching up an apple from Light's desk and gnawing on it noisily, making almost obscene slurping noises as he drank the juice. Light twitched and slumped down, snuggling his face into his pillow. "Go to hell."

"There isn't one," Ryuk said around a mouthful of apple, leaning down to grin into Light's face, but Light flipped over to face away from him.

"Then go the fuck away," the brunette mumbled, shivering lethargically. Ryuk frowned slightly and floated away, leaving Light in peace for a moment. Suddenly, another layer of cloth was draped over him, and he sat up violently, glaring at the fact that Ryuk had surprised him. He snarled the shinigami's name, staring at the clown-like face.

"I'm bored, and if you don't get better, I'm going to stay that way," the Shinigami explained and Light pondered it for a moment before snuggling up with the new blanket. As Light drifted off to sleep, Ryuk's grin faded, folding into one as serious as he could muster as he uttered, "Get well soon, Light. I like you better as Kira, anyways."

* * *

End of J

* * *

Um… so, I'm not very good at playing Ryuk. His personality is so inhuman that I find it almost disturbing to write him. I should have hired Paul to help, but, meh…

As always, reviews and suggestions are appreciated.

Another dedication to WithABunny for giving me the word I used. She's like a walking dictionary…


	11. K: King

Disclaimer: I'd be rich is this belonged to me and would not be trying desperately to come up with 20 dollars for a plushie…

* * *

K – King

* * *

The checkered board sprawled lazily before him on the floor as he fiddled with a piece the size of his hand and sucked lazily on the piece of chocolate that he had just popped into his mouth. He sprawled across the floor in a way that made it easy to go to sleep, but he had somehow become somewhat immersed in this stupid game and couldn't. Surely he had mentioned, once or twice or a thousand times, that he hated this game, but nobody really seemed to care. Instead, they were doing this as a freaking _lesson_ in _**class!**_

Even Matt was ignoring his hatred of it in favor of sitting on his lower back and peering over his head at the board, eyes roaming paths where nothing was on or would go at the current moment, making Mello wonder if Matt was having difficulty seeing, even without the goggles which had been pushed up onto his forehead for the moment. Finally he replaced his knight on the board, only to have Matt shove it a square over and grin at him helpfully. He would have sighed, but Matt's weight was making it sort of impossible.

With a soft sound somewhere between a moan of desperation and a growl of hatred, he pushed the piece forward and sideways and then hesitated before removing his fingers from it. When he did, his opponent, a girl about a year or so older than him who was somewhere in the top ten of the house, didn't hesitate at all. He shoved a castle across the board in a straight line, taking out a Pawn that the Knight had been protecting without Mello's notice and glanced at Mello before cautiously, "check."

"God fucking dammit!" Mello sat up sharply, causing Matt to topple over and land on another board, sending the pieces sprawling across the carpeting. "I hate this game!"

His footsteps echoed as he stomped out of the room and the girl he had been playing scowled and shook her head. "I woulda thought he was good at chess…"

"Naw," Matt replied, hands maneuvering to right the pieces he had spilled. "He's actually really bad at it. He can't see the harm in sacrificing his pieces and then gets mad when there aren't enough left for him to do much with. He usually only keeps the Queen and King somewhat safe."

"His queen's gone…" she muttered, frowning at the Queen which was set up amongst a ambush of pieces.

"Yeah, well. He doesn't think far ahead anyways, so he almost always loses. You shoulda seen him when he played Nea- oh… hey, Near," he grinned at the approaching boy, his expression freely happy now that Mello was gone form the room and wouldn't try to slap him across the face for being kind to the boy.

"I was wondering if Matt would like to play a game. I see that Mello has gotten mad about losing," Near murmured softly, and Matt had to wonder if it was coincidence that the albino boy smiled shyly at him at the same moment as his toes kicked over the King that had been left standing from Mello's game.

"Sure, why not?" Matt said, waving at the board he had finally reset. Near sat and they began to move pieces swiftly, seemingly without conscious thought. Finally, Near sat back and stared complacently at the board. With a deliberate movement, he stretched across to the board and moved his Queen swiftly away from danger to protect the pure white King.

Matt gnawed on his lip and sat back as well, eyes roving the board and then cursing softly. He moved his Castle and his Queen was captured by Near's own almost before he had even settle the piece into its new place. Two more movements and two pawns fell, Matt sighing at the loss of each piece. Then, softly, subtly, as Near captured a Bishop, Matt moved his piece and muttered, "check."

Near had an escape route, but his queen would have been destroyed to even them up. Instead, Near tipped his King with one hand, laying it carefully onto the board like laying a person to rest.

Matt frowned. "Wha-?"

"The King is usually unlikely to survive without the Queen," Near mumbled, sitting up. He tugged on Matt's jeans with his foot and Matt nodded as if understanding, though in reality, he was completely confused.

He stood nonchalantly and followed Near out of the room before querying, "Okay, so why'd you give up. Really."

"I was playing a game. Mello was the Queenside Bishop. I was the King. Matt…"

"I was the Queen, right?"

"Yes. Matt was the Queen."

"Right… well, I think you'd survive without me," Matt said awkwardly, shuffling feet across the ground, eyes flicking up to check where Mello was. Really, he should be getting back to him, But Near was still staring at him.

"I disagree," Near said and Matt, attention diverted, was suddenly fully focused on Near as the younger boy stretched up and kissed him ever-so-briefly before turning to the stairs and beginning to climb towards the playroom.

"Wait… what?" Matt was dizzy, but he too began to trek up the stairs. "That was a really stupid move." Near looked hurt for a split-second and opened his mouth, an apology starting to slip out, but Matt continued, "I'm going to have to play you again when I'm not one of the pieces. I could have seriously hurt myself!"

Near gave a brief smile and ushered Matt inside the playroom, but stopped as the golden-haired boy who had starred as the Queenside Bishop started to exit the bedroom Matt and him shared. Matt smiled apologetically at Near and instead moved towards Mello.

"Mels, you suck at chess," he called teasingly.

"Shove it, Matt," the blonde growled and headed back inside. Matt grinned at Near and gave a dorky salute to the younger boy before strolling after Mello to slip into their room, his laugher echoing down the hall.

Near frowned and entered the playroom alone, accidentally knocking his own chessboard aside as he walked towards a set of action figures set up in the corner. The jarring movement sent the pieces rolling in all directions.

Near quickly rescued the queen from rolling away.

* * *

End of K

* * *

Um… not much to say today… Just the usual, really… Read, Review, offer ideas, etc. Also, if _anyone_, I'm serious, _**anyone**_at all, wants a giftfic, tell me, k? I really want an idea for a story, cuz I'm bored and my chapter stories are evading me.


	12. L: Line

Disclaimer: And now, for that disclaimer, my sister, fresh back from college for the weekend! So, Lee- Aaaaand she's asleep… right… Well, lets just say I don't own anything.

* * *

L – Line

* * *

Mello remembered the old saying that revealed how thin the line between good and evil really was. The thing was, he never really believed it. After all, it seemed pretty obvious to him. The phrase that he felt described it the most was aid by some little brat of a kid at Whammy's house, back when he was only 9 and could surpass all of them because Near wasn't there yet. Good was L; bad was the people that L chased. It was as simple as that.

He was confused, therefore, when as a child, only 7, or perhaps only 6, his mother, always, always good, was sent to jail for murdering a man who must have been bad, because he had to be because his mother was good and she wouldn't have killed anybody else who was good without a reason, much less her own husband. He had folded over and screamed and yelled when they sent him to an orphanage, not believing that his Mother had been protecting herself and him, but they didn't deserve the pleasure of seeing him cry real tears. Instead, he hit and kicked and plotted.

Four months later, the orphanages got fed up. They had shipped him to every orphanage in the area and finally, finally, he had been sent away, where every soft voice that spoke in German didn't remind him of his mother and every sting of the Sunday bells didn't remind him of walking to church with her, fist balled into her big hand and the other hand clasped on his rosary and always, always laughing right up to the point where they approached the church.

They sent him to England, where the only bells that chimed did not signal church, but rather the hours of the day. They sent him to two orphanages and then finally, Whammy's house. And this place was good, and L believed what he said, believed what was the truth about his Mother, but it didn't matter because he was told four days later by Roger that his Mother, his beautiful, strong, _good_ Mother, had died, claiming her own life with a rusty blade in the run-down cell of a prison.

Mello screamed and wailed and refused to talk to anyone for a week, because L was still good, but L could never take the place of his mother. He held his rosary close and whispered, kneeling by his bed, "Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned." Never once did he re-input the word 'Father' into the text.

Time passed all to quickly in a place like Whammy's house; memories faded. Each night, he comforted a boy who had no Mother, and slowly, he almost forgot he had his own. He still called God "Lord" when he prayed. It was just a force of habit, a twisted little tradition that he had adopted. He didn't think about it because if he did, then he would most certainly remember the things he didn't want to.

But it was good. And then, on November fifth, L was dead and everything good was gone. He stormed out, leaving behind the boy with no Mother, because everything good was gone from him, and he couldn't stand Matt when the boy just wouldn't understand why he screamed and yelled and never cried.

Sitting on a couch among a horde of Mafia members, he began to think that maybe the line was a bit too thin for comfort. When they angered him, and he drew his gun and shot them without another thought, never once even looking up from his bar of chocolate, he realized that it didn't matter how thin or thick it was. He had long since left it far behind.

Clutching his rosary, he screams his anger into his pillow for an hour before kneeling by his bed. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

* * *

End of L

* * *

Lee's now gone, Paul went to A-Fest this weekend and came back with a team L shirt which made me laugh and proclaim my totally "Team Switzerland-ishness" in the whole Light vs. L debate when he and another friend started it up, and I'm exhausted and have to draw Hope a picture of the "Marluxia and Larxene" pairing or "Axel and Demyx" pairing from Kingdom Hearts… Anybody want to help and draw one for me? I swear I will be indebted to you FOREVER.


	13. M: Mirror

Disclaimer: I really appreciate that you think I own this, but seriously… Just no.

* * *

M – Mirror

* * *

It was almost amusing how hard Mello actually tried to be different from his albino rival. When Near wore loose white, Mello found the tightest black he could. When Near's fingers curled his own hair, Mello took the time to keep every lock of his in place. When Near couldn't eat something at dinner, whether because of allergies or a simple hatred of the food choice, Mello made sure to take some of Matt's for himself as well. When Near made an attempt to curl up and sit like a freaky little clone of L, Mello gave up that one instance of being like his influence to make sure that he lounged whenever he sat, legs sprawled out before him.

They were as different as two people could be, mostly through Mello's efforts to make it so, like an inverted mirror image. And somehow, in all of this, Matt was the one sitting in-between, trying to keep the peace.

If Matt had to make an analogy, it might have involved complicated video-game references, but anyone else, someone like L or Near who knew of his predicament of being stuck between the two and could describe it accurately, could make a comparison far simpler than he.

Near was Heaven, everything white and calm and beautiful, drawing you in and then judging you too harshly, making the choice of whether to accept you or banish you in one sharp stroke, while Mello, much as the Catholic boy would have hated to hear it, was Hell: burning you until your entire body was numb, but once you were in, you were trapped, held there by eyes that might as well have been every lick of flame within the true Hell, because he moved like Lucifer's army, quick to strike and always angry.

And Matt, was the earth in-between, or perhaps just what he was in real life: a human who moved along its surface, without anything special to define him within the drawn-out metaphor. He had the option of believing, the option of either, but he was always closer to Hell because of fear of admitting his want for the angel that sat on the playroom floor, twining his hair around his fingers and playing with his toys.

Maybe that stupid analogy was why, when Mello had tried to drag him along to church, he always refused, always hung back, always took the long-suffering glares from Mello's flame-blue eyes and chuckled at them, waving the other away and telling him to go on, and that he'd rather play video-games.

Because, mirrors weren't supposed to be inverted and there wasn't supposed to be a red-haired, goggle-wearing, living, breathing human-being trapped between the sheets of glass, unsure which of the people on the outside was real and which of them was the photo-negative. Because, honestly, either way, he was fairly sure he would end up going to Hell, and when he did, perhaps Near, who didn't believe in God anyways, would be there, and perhaps Mello, who prayed nightly, would not.

It didn't matter; analogies had never been Matt's strong point anyways, and after he woke, mumbling desperately and getting kissed back to sanity by the metaphorical devil-incarnate in his room, Hell would never seem so bad. And, hell (no pun intended, though Matt, at this thought, let out a quiet snigger), Near might be there after all, still fiddling with a chess-piece and looking like Hell's own personal angel.

* * *

End of M

* * *

Alright, I am very, very tired of English homework, and felt I should write a story, but apparently my brain's melted, so this is what it came up with. But I seriously don't feel like re-doing it, or doing another one, so this is what you get.

Also, WithABunny (praise to you again for the word idea!) has a new story. It's also Death Note, and is set up, like this one, as a different drabble (though, admittedly, the drabbles a lot shorter and million times less confusing than mine) for each letter of the alphabet. It's called TwentySix, so go read it if you have a chance, okay?

One last thing before I go. Let me just say, that I am highly confused. This story is on 4 favorites lists and 9 alerts lists, but I'm getting approx. 2 reviews per chapter. _**Maybe**_. So, let me just plead a favorite off all those people who have this story on one or both of those lists. Drop a line, please? It doesn't even have to be a long review. Just tell me "hey it's good," or "hey, you need to fix this," or give me word ideas or whatever. Doesn't matter much to me what you say, I'd just like to be able to tell who's actually still reading this story and who just has it on their favorites/alerts list randomly.

Thanks a ton.


	14. N: Numbers

Disclaimer: Nope. Nothing. I don't even own any of the series. I borrow from my friends or watch on TV.

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N – Numbers

* * *

It would be tempting to say that, as a child, Beyond Birthday had even a semblance of normalcy, but insanity and morbidity was and is implanted into one's very mind when you spend your entire life staring at the strange numerical symbols that explained the exact date that one would die. He greeted people and spoke to them, all the while, knowing, counting down the seconds of their life. He knew names before they were spoken and more than once had gone up to talk to people simply because they would die the next day and he found sick pleasure in going up to them and saying their name to them and giving sick hints towards their demise within his speech.

And in all this, who was he to protest when he woke up on the day his mother would die and went to school and stared at the ceiling until they delivered the note to him?

So he was taken, along with beautiful little A, whose exact moment of suicide he had known and not attempted to halt, to Whammy's house. He was to act, play along with this sick little experiment, try and follow in the footsteps of one of the few men who's death he did not know, because he had seen his face only once and forgotten to keep track and record, and the only other time his face was seen was in a mirror where the name was wrong and the date was missing.

All he knew in those years, after A was gone and he was alone, keeping track of an enigma, was that he was training. Training to fight L in a way that would make him one of those few people with the bloodstained fingers that made his morbid numbers true.

* * *

End of N

* * *

I read Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases over the week and almost cried when I had to give it back to my friend. I felt like… insane in half my classes as I read and after I started the book over for the third time in the same class (different days, of course. I don't read _that_ fast), my teacher threatened to take it up. So I drew a pic of BB as a child ('cuz I was that bored without my book). The pic sucked, and I lost it to a friend in a game of poker, but this drabble was spawned, so…

Enjoy. I do need suggestions for O, though I already have an Idea for P (wow… that's a surprise even to me. I never plot ahead of time.) so if you could give me suggestions for O (or even any of the letters after that) I'd be grateful.


	15. O: Octave

Disclaimer: Do-dee-do; for I am a but a poor choir student who has no money and has to have free tickets to go to the opera… *sigh* Here's a story.

* * *

O - Octave

* * *

It was a wonder, really, how anyone could stand the shrill tones of Misa in their ears for very long. But Light seemed perfectly fine with it… sometimes.

At first, it was simple to pass off: before the Kira case, Light had lived with a female girl, had he not? That would get one accustomed to any range of pitches, especially with a fangirl such as Yagami Sayu.

But hearing the difference between Sayu's high but pretty voice and Amane Misa's shrill, ear-bursting Soprano, L had no idea how he had ever ignored it. When Misa screamed, L debated going deaf but for the fact that it would take his perception down quite a bit, despite the innate ability to lip-read.

Light too seemed uncomfortable. He didn't like Misa much, he admitted to it himself, but he wouldn't be mean, wouldn't be cruel, would only smile politely and shake his head vaguely once she was looking the other way as if testing whether he could still hear the air swimming around his head.

"She's not so bad," Light had lied once and L hadn't looked at him, but a few minutes later, he had noted the presence of a percent, for he could not imagine anyone tolerating her unless he had a motive behind it, and certainly, Amane Misa was the second Kira. After some more thought, he had written it off, reducing the percentage once more because even Kira couldn't fake being that bad of a liar.

Too many nights were spent pouring over a little black book and looking up at what seemed to be two or three in the morning and finding it to be eight or nine with Misa shrieking at the front door that she was ready for a date.

Without the chain, Light could stand and go to Misa without a single shake of the head to clear his ears, without a single moment of winced agony that rang through L's ears like wildfire.

"Misa is here for her date with Light-kun! Misa has missed Light-kun sooooo much! Has Light-kun missed Misa-Misa?"

Light smiled and petted her head affectionately and flicked off the sound, watching them leave the building and winced again. He would wait for Light to get back before informing him that this non-annoyance with Misa had cost him a few percentages, just for annoyance's sake.

* * *

End of O

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Okay, that was definitely not my best writing, but after writing an entire research paper, I needed comic relief and… well… Misa's just too easy. As always, reviews, ideas; all things are appreciated!


	16. P: Place Value

Disclaimer: I went to my local magician to ask him to gimme Matt, Mello, and Near, but he just laughed at me… It was magic that burnt his shop down. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

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P – Place Value

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It happened once. Mello came back to the room with an angry snarl placed firmly on his lips, hands twitching like trigger-fingers at his side. Matt knew better than to ask what was wrong. It had only been a little while, only a few weeks at most since he had come to Whammy's and Linda had dared Mello to kiss him at a party. After that, it had only been two weeks at most since Mello had woken him up and growled at him to get the hell into his room so he could keep waking him, or to shut the hell up before somebody else found out. It had only been a few weeks, but by now he knew that he would only get the typical answer of, "Fucking Near!"

Instead, half an hour after the silence of the room had become overbearingly awkward, Matt shut off his new game and rolled over, looking at Mello in evaluation. "So…"

"I got a 97," Mello grumbled into his pillow, voice muffled by the feathers as he tried to suffocate himself. Mello didn't seem the suicidal type. Matt'd bet anything that the homicidal section of Mello was raring to take over.

"Oh…" Matt paused awkwardly once more and then moved as casually as he could to his bedside table, reaching under it with his foot and shoving the test as far down into the trash as he could so that the red '98' was hidden.

Mello would never know, and Near, who had gotten the same grade as him, wouldn't care that Matt was taking over a section of the playroom to sleep in that night. Just in case. Matt really liked all of his body parts.

But, as luck would have it, it happened again, only two weeks later, and by that point, people were starting to talk about a new second place. This being said, Mello was like a hunting tiger, prowling around the house like a mad man, eyes smoldering with a barely concealed heat as he glowered at anything that moved.

"It's that damn albino brat!" the blond hissed, spitting venom.

"Mels, Near's number 1. Why would he want the number two place?" Matt asked, though he felt that it was probably at danger to his own health. "Besides, if he became number two, you'd be number one, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right, Matt. Then, I'll be L's favorite!" Mello practically yelled it in his excitement and rolled over on the bed to face the ceiling, looking lost in visions of grandeur as he daydreamed. Feeling safe, Matt leaned over the edge and shoved the newest test under his bed, holding his breath. Mello didn't notice, but instead spoke suddenly, asking, "But what if it's not Near?"

Matt had no response except holding his breath. They spent the rest of the evening in silence.

Three tests later, with Matt making sure that his was always just a few points lower than Mello's, and the black-clad boy was once more wandering around in perfect disharmony with his surroundings. It fit better that way Matt supposed, sitting back with his game and watching Mello strut around the library like he owned it.

"Why not just be number two? Mello cannot possibly scare Matt enough for him to pretend to be stupider than he is."

"Hi, Near," Matt answered, wincing at the bluntness of the boy's tone.

"Answer the question please, Matt."

"He doesn't scare me, Near. I think I just give too much of a damn about him. If he found out that I took his spot, he'd never talk to me again and…"

"And?" Matt whirled, facing the blonde boy behind him who was staring at him as if he were a traitor, a test subject, and the oddest person that ever lived all mixed up into one.

"Mels, what's up?"

"If I found out that you were the one who was taking my spot and I never spoke to you again… what? What were you going to say, Matt?" Mello hissed, hand clamping around Near's shoulder as if he were the one that refused to answer. Near winced and Matt reached out, touching Mello's arm.

"Not worth it, Mels. Don't hurt him. I was gonna say…" Matt gulped and Mello glared. "That part scares the hell out of me."

"So you're pretending to be third place?"

"Hey, which little pig saved the other one's asses? Which wise man brought the freaking gold? Which Powerpuff girl is the only one who totally kicks ass? Third place owns."

Mello tried to glare but instead just shook his head, mouth twitching slightly at the corner. "Be second place if you can. I'll just keep trying to beat you." Matt twitched, wondering if he would now get the same treatment as Near, but the blond instead leaned down and kissed him, sharp and firey, hissing against his lips, "If you have a nightmare tonight, I'm not waking you up."

Mello wouldn't ever know that Matt purposely stayed in third place up until Mello left him.

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End of P

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I'm stuck at a place without cable and Internet. I think I'm in the Dark Ages. I'll update when I get home to Tejas and normalcy.

Same requests as usual, my lovelies.

Also, happy belated Turkey Holocaust for those in the US.

Same request as always, my lovelies. Now I go to play videogames.


	17. Q: Quarender

Disclaimer: The fact that this hasn't been updated since '08 efficiently strips me of all rights to anything I might have imagined owning. I wish I could pass it off as simply a waning interest in Death Note, but that's just sad.

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Q - Quarender

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It was red. Red like rubies or roses or blood.

A misshapen sphere that reflected light dully, it sat there, innocuously immobile. Then it lifted, as if by an invisible hand and a side disappeared with a sickening crunch. Light didn't bother to acknowledge the hearty crunching noise, didn't deem it worthy of his attention.

There was a gaping wound of purest white in the beautiful red, like someone or something had scooped the colour out with digging, bony fingers. The whiteness begged to be tainted, begged to be ruined and mutilated and massacred. Nothing pure could stay that way. Nothing.

A forehead folded in, and slowly, the red sank back to the brownness of the wood. This drew attention and Light turned his head, hand stilling on the papers before him.

Invisibility meant nothing in their world, not when Light had touched the very book of death. He saw the form of the death god at his side, staring vacantly at the apple that had been laid back on the desk. "Ryuk?"

He didn't sound concerned, merely curious. There was no laughter at this moment. Ryuk wasn't chuckling, wasn't laughing, wasn't even grinning. That jester's mouth had twisted, forming a cruel grimace.

"Apples," he mused, sullenly and Light was taken aback. Ryuk had never thought about his favorite food before, only wolfed them down like they were water in the desert. "Why red?"

"What do you mean, why red?" Light snapped, impatience and frustration clear in his voice.

"I mean, why are apples red?"

"Are you insane?" Light snarled. A bad question, he supposed. He already knew the answer: a very sure and undisputed "yes". You didn't have to be a genius to figure that out

"Red. Why red?"

"They can be green too," Light pointed out, sniffing disdainfully and turning back to the Death Note.

Ryuk shook his head wearily, a surge of strong hatred sweeping through him. Light didn't listen, didn't bother even a look unless he knew that you were a danger. Ryuk didn't bother to wonder how long it would last.

He found himself laughing cruelly as Light ignored him. He had been trying to make a point, in his own way. Light may have been brilliant, but his close-minded ignorance would be his downfall.

He picked up the apple and crunched through the red down to the flawless white.

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End of Q

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Again, I apologize for my failure to update. I can't even begin to express how many apologies are being spouted at the moment. The guilt I feel is overwhelming.

Luckily, I'm planning to finish the last 9 drabbles and be done with this. So expect everything to be up within a few days of each other as I get them done.

Word suggestions are good. They are my friend.


	18. R: Reality

I'm so sorry. I'm so bad at keeping up. But I swore I would finish this. So here goes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Matt, Mello, L or Death Note.

Word came from The Babble Fish. L has his speaking part.

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R – Reality

* * *

Far too often for Mello's taste, there came a point where he actually had to remind Matt of which world was real. Matt liked getting lost in his video games, but Mello did not appreciate the wild-eyed look in his eyes when he had been playing video games for too long and it took him a fearful moment to recognize that Mello really existed. He brought this matter up to L on one of his visits to the Whammy House.

"It's like he doesn't know which world is really here. Like he really thinks he's the hero of some video game and forgets that this world is real and there are hundreds of thousands of people out there killing each other because he's too busy killing his monsters!" Mello paced wildly, feeling confined and trapped. The window behind L had the curtains drawn and he really wished that they were open. He felt insanely claustrophobic.

"Perhaps," said L, examining a sugar cube before plunking it into his tea. It didn't hit the bottom, instead landing on top of the others he had already put in. The drink looked thick and sludgy and Mello wasn't sure how L was going to stomach it. The detective lifted it to his mouth and took a sip, smacking his lips happily before repeating, "Perhaps…"

He paused for a long moment after that and Mello stared at him until he realized that the detective was motioning towards Mello's untouched cup. The boy walked over and took a sip, pleased when he felt the smooth warmth of hot chocolate rather then L's concoction. He set the cup back down and resumed his pacing as L resumed speaking.

"Perhaps Matt-kun prefers those worlds because the monsters are aptly named. In this one we call them 'human,' and pretend it is true. Matt-kun seems to prefer otherwise," L said.

"Matt doesn't prefer anything except lung cancer," Mello grumbled. "It's dumb. I just wish he'd come back to reality a bit more. It'd make life a lot easier."

"Prove that this is reality, Mello-chan," L challenge, pointing at Mello with a lollipop before putting it into his mouth.

"Ugh, Existential Philosophy," Mello grumbled. "This is reality to the two of us because we are both sitting here and we both see this world as being the real thing."

"How do you know? How do you know I don't see you as a leather-clad unicorn prancing around eating chocolate?" L asked.

Mello raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"No, but how do you know that I don't," L said pointedly.

"But that's not the same! Matt's looking at a screen. And as soon as it runs out of batteries, it dies. You can't live in a world that runs on batteries and D-pads!"

"You can't, and I can't – we have things to do. We must be the ones to catch criminals, the ones to think about everything. You and I and Near-kun," L said, absently watching Mello's face twist into a sneer at the other prodigy's name. "But Matt does not do that. Matt seems to have been made because you were lonely."

"He was not!" Mello protested, and then as an afterthought added, "And I wasn't lonely!"

L just stared out of those black-ringed eyes. Mello groaned. "Alright, maybe I was a little lonely. But Matt's a human being! He wasn't 'made' because of me. God has a purpose for him."

"Maybe God made him for you," L mused, and Mello knew that he was just entertaining Mello's thoughts on God. Good Catholic boy that Mello was, no matter how much science he learned, he couldn't let it go, but L had never had a religious mindset for as long as Mello had known him. Mello also knew that L wouldn't let his thought on Matt go. It was stuck in his head now. "Because you were lonely."

"And if he was made for me, why does he insist on living in a reality that I'm not in?" Mello asked L, chugging the rest of his drink. Pacing made him thirsty.

L took another sip of his sludge, looking at Mello. He didn't look thoughtful though – he didn't have to think for an answer. He looked almost pitying. Eventually, he stood, hands in pockets. His bare feet stuttered across the carpet, and he looked up at Mello. "Everyone enjoys running from their fate. Even Matt-kun."

"Fate?"

"Fate. Mello. In Matt-kun's case, they may be interchangeable," L noted. "It's been good seeing you again Mello-chan. Until the next time."

"Where will you be?" Mello asked.

"Here and there. You know," L said vaguely.

"Are you chasing Kira?"

L didn't answer, only left the room. Mello sighed, and went back upstairs. Matt was sitting on his bed, fingers tapping at his game. He looked up for half a moment when Mello entered, but it was hazy and half-glazed, like Mello wasn't really there.

"Ma-" Mello began to call him out, but paused. L's words rang in his head. Mello sat down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, grabbing a bar of chocolate from the bedside table. It lay in his hand, barely eaten.

Let Matt have his world. It was fine. Mello wasn't going to bring him back to this one. "Hey, Mels. You mad at me?"

Mello looked over. Matt was looking at him over the top of the screen. "Don't you need to pay attention to that?"

"It's on pause." Matt shrugged, blinking through his goggles. "So what's up? What did L say?"

"He said that you were made because I was lonely. Stupid, huh?" Mello said, forcing a laugh.

Matt shrugged. The game music resumed as Matt went back to it. With a sigh, Mello went back to munching on his chocolate and staring at the ceiling.

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End of R


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